


Baze of Glory

by Annie D (scaramouche)



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Baze POV, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Porn, Pre-Canon, Size Kink, young Baze & Chirrut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9180790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D
Summary: Baze has a big dick.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Baze有把大枪](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9456623) by [Annie D (scaramouche)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D), [Seinano](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seinano/pseuds/Seinano)



> Written for a prompt at rogueonekink which went: ["Baze has a big dick and Chirrut loves it".](http://rogueonekink.dreamwidth.org/1084.html?thread=69692#cmt69692) There it is.

There are a number of things that Baze imagined Chirrut would do if they ever got to this stage, but he must admit he’d never thought that Chirrut would nod and say, “Yes, that explains a lot.”

Baze looks down at where Chirrut’s hand disappears between the folds of Baze’s robes. It’s a thrilling sight, to be sure, and not even as thrilling as Chirrut’s fingers squeezing Baze’s dick curiously. Baze is already mildly dizzy from their earlier kisses and rolling around on the pallet, so it’d be a damned shame if Chirrut decides to be an irritating contrarian _now_ , of all times.

Baze still has to ask, though. “What explains a lot?”

“The things I’ve heard,” Chirrut says, still groping Baze thoughtfully. “Baze the bantha, that sort of thing? All positive, of course. You should be flattered.”

“Funnily enough, I’m not.”

Chirrut grins. “Can people tell, when you walk?”

Baze rolls his eyes and resists humping Chirrut’s hand. “Can people tell _what_?”

“That you are generously—”

“It stays _inside_ the robes, Chirrut. As it does with yours. Wherever this talk you heard comes from, it didn’t originate from my failure to dress properly.” Baze frowns when Chirrut’s placid expression doesn’t change, nor does the gentle pressure of fingers along his shaft. This is taking too long, and Baze would like to get to know Chirrut’s intimates as well. “Would you like to come up here?”

“Just let me get used to the idea of this,” Chirrut says.

“I don’t expect you to—”

“But you’d let me.”

Baze blinks, startled. “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

“Do _you_ have any preference?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Baze says. “I’d like to touch you a great deal more than I am right now.”

That at least springs Chirrut into completing his undressing. He sheds the remainder of his robes with such efficiency that it takes Baze a moment to remember that he needs to undress as well. Then there’s miles of wonderful skin when Chirrut crawls on top of him, the angles of his body perfect for grabbing, plus more of that kissing business that they’ve been getting quite good at.

Baze opens his legs to let Chirrut settle between them, expecting to get to know Chirrut’s own erection with some friendly frottage, but is thwarted here as well when Chirrut plants a hand on Baze’s chest and pushes him flat on his back. The action sends a pleasant rush up Baze’s spine, but then Chirrut is pulling at Baze’s cock, lifting it up off Baze’s stomach with purpose.

“Chirrut, we don’t need to do…” Baze trails off, because Chirrut has that look on his face, the same look he had when Brak Onasi said that there was no way the ‘blind initiate’ would be able to climb the singing tower all the way to the finial. “ _Chirrut_.”

“Yes?”

“I’m not—” Baze hisses at the touch of oil on his cock; Chirrut again performing some sleight of hand that Baze may never get used to. “I’m not a challenge to be conquered.”

“No, you are not,” Chirrut agrees with a laugh. “I’ve no interest in conquering you. What I would like to do is _learn_ you, Baze, if you’d let me.”

There is a fine line between protectiveness and coddling. This thing between them is still new enough that they haven’t quite figured out where that balance is, but they’ll get there, Baze is sure of it. Part of that has to come from their listening to each other and, apparently, trusting that when Baze gives Chirrut permission to ride him, it’s because that’s what Chirrut wants, and not only because Baze really, really, _really_ wants to be inside him.

“All right,” Baze says. “Have at it.”

The fact is, Baze is good at managing his expectations. A friendship would have been enough; when he got more than that, kisses would have been enough; after that still, gaining some very pleasurable memories of grinding against Chirrut would have been more than enough. Baze is, after all, a monk, and knows all about denying smaller wants for the sake of a greater purpose.

It’s probably blasphemous to think that the Force may be rewarding him now with a dream made real, whereby Chirrut is slowly sitting on his dick, taking the girth of it with a parted lips and a faint scowl.

Chirrut is – tight. Slick, hot, welcoming, but mainly tight. That’s not Chirrut’s fault, though; that’s mostly Baze’s, because there’s a great deal of him to take, and he’s opening Chirrut’s body up in ways it’s not necessarily meant to.

Baze chants under his breath to distract himself, to keep his body still and in service of Chirrut’s acclimatization. He almost falters when he makes the mistake of looking down, spying the base of his shaft where it disappears inside Chirrut, but he regains himself in time.

“I – it’s so,” Chirrut says hoarsely. He exhales and lands with an unceremonious little smack against Baze’s thighs, taking all of him. Chirrut’s thighs are shaking, his muscles taut as he tries to move. “There’s so much.”

“Yes,” Baze sighs. “You feel amazing.”

Chirrut inhales sharply, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “I can barely move. How – how does—” He grinds experimentally, moving in a shallow circle on Baze’s lap. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“Do you need help? Because I can…” Baze draws his legs up a little, bracing his feet on the floor and then snapping his hips up, once, that has Chirrut choking in surprise. “I can do that.”

“That doesn’t seem fair to—” Chirrut makes a very interesting sound when Baze does it again. Another thrust has Chirrut throwing his head back in bliss, and his mouth falling open in a very charming way. He starts to recover, brow drawing back into a scowl, but is distracted again when Baze starts fucking him in earnest.

It takes Baze a moment – and a handful of very pleasant thrusts into Chirrut’s body – before he realizes what’s happening. Chirrut is clearly enjoying himself, and gasping with pleasure every time Baze drives into him, but there is frustration on his face as well, in the way he’s trying to move with Baze’s thrusts but isn’t quite able to.

“I can slow down,” Baze offers.

“You’re just too damned big,” Chirrut says through gritted teeth. “I can’t – I can’t _do_ anything, there’s only—” He shudders when Baze finds a particularly good angle. “It’s so deep. It’s so – oh, it’s so—”

It’s hilarious how offended Chirrut sounds. Baze is aware of how well Chirrut knows and takes care of his body, which has been honed thanks to years of discipline, but _this_ seems to be brand new. Baze has speared Chirrut wide, and Chirrut’s _enjoying it_ , apparently discovering a whole repertoire of new sensations. This thought has Baze’s blood singing, and he grabs at Chirrut’s hips, yanking him down every time Baze thrusts up, slamming their bodies together. It’s surely a noble cause to want to fuck this man out of his mind.

It turns out to be really easy, too.

Baze chases his pleasure, now confident that Chirrut will find his as well. They move with a rhythm similar to a sparring session turned intense, the slats under the pallet protesting as they move. At long last Chirrut gives in, lost to the sensation as his head tips back, his arms grow slack, and his thighs give out. ‘Helpless’ is not a word Baze normally associates with this man, but there it is.

Chirrut curls forward as he comes, his whole body shuddering. He must be raw by now, oil or not, but still he clenches around Baze’s erection, as though determined to milk every last second of pleasure from it.

At the last, Baze closes his eyes and takes his turn, spilling hot inside the man on top of him. Chirrut is even nice enough to help, stroking Baze’s chest through it and rolling his hips to take Baze’s final, stuttering movements.

Many breaths later, after Chirrut has dismounted and made himself comfortable lying shoulder-to-shoulder with Baze, he says, “An excellent learning experience.”

“I certainly learned a few things about _you_ ,” Baze says.

Instead of showing offense, Chirrut laughs and says, “And aren’t you glad of it?”

Baze hums in agreement.


End file.
